The Merchant and Her Escorts
by 0x0UnderDog0x0
Summary: Before Thorin tried to take Erebor back, he had a few minor adventures of his own. One such adventure included his good friend Dwalin, a pretty yet stern merchant, and some very important pieces of information. OC/Thorin, rating may vary. Reviews are much appreciated.
1. 1: Work Offered

One

Walking through the front door of the Tall Tree Inn were two dwarves, Thorin and Dwalin, who were both tired from a hard day's work. Not too tired, however, to glare at and scare off any of the Men who dared to stare too closely at them. Taking a seat at a corner table, they each nodded to the inn keeper, one of their few friends in the city of men, who smiled kindly back to them before turning to one of the barmaids and telling her to prepare a room.

The table was scarcely light by one lone candle nearly at the end of its wick, and a chilling breeze was blowing towards them from an old window that would no longer close all the way. The spot was an uncomfortable and unfavorable one, yet they decided to sit there whenever they could, if only for the sake of having some privacy. Two mugs of ale were quickly placed in front of them by the bartender's wife with a swift promise to bring out some stew when it was finished cooking.

"Thank you, miss." Thorin grumbled before she hurried off, and the woman managed a half-smile in his general direction. The Men of this town were not fond of dwarves, so whenever one tried their hand at being kind to Thorin, he tried his own hand at showing his thanks. It didn't help too much, but it was better than scowling like an ungrateful child.

Thorin sighed, pulling off his leather work gloves and rubbing at the center of one of his palms. Dwalin eyed his motion as he too ridded himself of the gloves, taking a large drink from the mug in front of him. After giving a slight burp, he leaned back against the seat and frowned at Thorin.

"You're working too hard and too often. If you don't give yourself a break every now and then," he said with his heavy brogue accent, "your hands'll become as weak and useless as a newborn babe's."

With his heads till tilted down at his hands, Thorin scowled up at his friend irritably. He did not argue though, for Dwalin's words were true enough.

"How do you expect to make any coin then, _your highness_?" Dwalin asked smartly with a teasing smirk.

"Keep your voice down." Thorin hissed as he glanced quickly to the side to see if anyone was within hearing range. A few were, but those few also seemed to be buried either in their mugs of ale or the bosom of some wench. Undoubtedly, this establishment was not a decent one, and if a pauper were seen here, then he would certainly _stay_ a pauper.

Looking back to Dwalin, the would-be king stopped fussing with his hands and let his arms rest upon the tabletop.

"You know as well as I the consequences of my stature."

"Aye; thieves and pick-pockets, the lot of them." Dwalin grumbled with a judgmental look towards the inn's patrons. After having another drink, the dwarf's eyes turned back to Thorin and he spoke.

"I wouldn't trust a single one to watch my pony for me. Though I don't think you should worry, much Thorin; it's doubtful that any of them are clever enough to connect the dots between you and your real identity. Nearly thirty years we've been in Bree, and not once have you been recognized. I would take it as a great offense if we weren't relying on their ignorance."

Thorin gave a scoff and picked up his drink, staring into the dull liquid before him with slight distaste.

"A great offense indeed." Thorin muttered under his breath just before bowls of stew were set before them. They settled into a comfortable silence as they tucked into their meal.

Dwalin couldn't help to think that this meal, like every other one he's had since Erebor was lost, would do much better with their friends and family around. Music, talking, plenty of laughter, maybe even a good brawl or two. Never dull, saddened moment was had when grog and gruel were presented before a gathering of dwarves, that is for certain.

Sighing in a downtrodden fashion, Dwalin tried to think of something other than the sadder aspects of their lives.

"Have you received word from the boys as of late?" He asked as he stirred his soup a bit.

Already Thorin seemed to lighten up at the thought of his sister-sons, and he found himself grinning while he told Dwalin of them.

He went into a long, bragging rant about how Kili had found decent business in hunting pheasants, foxes, wolves and such. He would sell the meats and pelts separately, which was clever since it made his earnings a tad greater. Then Thorin spoke about Fili and how well he was doing in his diplomatic studies, learning about the economy and how dwarven politics worked.

"Not only that, but it seems that he's caught himself a lass as well." Thorin said with a chuckle.

Dwalin's brow raised in pleasant surprise and guffawed along with Thorin.

"Now, that _is_ some good news, my friend!"

Thorin nodded happily and pushed away his empty bowl.

"Aye. They plan to visit with Dis in ten weeks' time; hopefully Fili will bring his girl along with him."

Dwalin nodded in agreement.

"A treat that would be, certainly. Well, if you're finished with your food, I think we ought to get some rest. I've got to teach four lads how to properly wield a sword, and I know _you've_ not yet finished those orders yet."

"You are right Dwalin, as per usual." Thorin pushed himself up from the table with a tired grunt and gathered the bowl and mug to take back to the bartender. It wasn't required of him to do so of course, but the bartender was letting him stay at the inn for a cheaper price than most customers, so Thorin figured he'd do what he could to make work easier on the man. Dwalin followed after Thorin with his own bowl and mug in hand.

"Here you are, Mr. Gray." Thorin said in his low voice, reaching above his head to place the dishes on the counter which happened to be simply too tall for dwarves. As always, the man looked in all directions with his bushy brows raised in search of the one speaking to him before thinking to look down. When he did spot the two cantankerous looking dwarves, the man named Mr. Gray smiled largely and leaned over the counter to have a better look at them.

"Ah, master dwarf! Thank you _so_ very much for bringing your dishes back, I do hope that the meal was to your liking. Is there anything else you'll be needing tonight?"

"No, that is all—" Thorin started to say before Dwalin moved forward and placed his large hand on his friend's shoulder to interrupt him.

"Actually, I was wondering if you might do me a favor, lad."

Thorin gave Dwalin a skeptical look at the request, not too sure what he was on about.

"Oh, of course my good sir! What is it that you need?" Mr. Gray asked humbly.

"Right around four weeks from now my friend and I will be out of work. It would be mighty helpful if you kept your ear to the ground when merchants come round, see if they need protecting during their travels or anything of the sort."

Thorin's expression softened just a bit as he realized that Dwalin was right in looking for work early on. In the business of repairing weapons and training want-to-be soldiers, work wasn't always promised. On more than one occasion, they had either to find new occupations, beg for a meal, or starve to death. And dwarves don't beg _anyone_ for _anything_ under _any_ circumstance, so that was not even an option in their eyes.

"I shall do just that, master dwarf. Always glad to help, I am! Now that I think of it though," Mr. Gray mumbled as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "there was a young woman the other day, a trader she did say she was, in search of either four Men or two dwarven escorts."

"Four Men or two dwarves?" Dwalin said in a less friendly tone—not that he _ever_ sounded friendly in the first place. He scoffed. "That's a bit of a stretch, thinking that having four of them is the same as having two of us."

"I thought the same thing." Mr. Gray said with a kind laugh.

"If she's looking for the strength and knowledge of two dwarves, then she might as well ask for eight men."

Mr. Gray's smile slowly turned into a slight frown at Dwalin's offensive statement. Was Dwalin saying that Men were not only weaker than dwarves, but also less knowledgeable than them? He may have befriended Thorin, and he might be a kind man, but he was still a Man, and he would defend his race if he needed to.

When Dwalin crossed his large, scarred, tattooed arms over his barrel of a chest and gave a challenging look, however…he figured that he didn't really _need_ to defend his race right this second.

Thorin, knowing that Dwalin was trying to pick a fight, was quick to step forward and gain the innkeeper's attention once more.

"Did this woman happen to mention when she next planned to travel?"

"She did say something about needing a couple of weeks to make preparations, but I can't quite remember her exact words. She does stay in one of our rooms though; perhaps I could suggest she meet you at your table sometime?"

"A fine idea indeed, Mr. Gray, thank you. Tell her to see us tomorrow night during dinner, if you would." Thorin instructed as he placed a handful of coins up on the counter with a brief, stiff smile. Before he could hear the innkeeper's response, he roughly grabbed Dwalin around the arm and dragged him away from the counter. Considering Dwalin's size and extreme dislike for being manhandled, it was rather impressive that Thorin managed to move the dwarf even an inch.

"Would you be so considerate, mister Dwalin," Thorin hissed through his teeth as he stomped towards their room, not bothering to look back at his companion, "as to not try and start a fight _every single time_ we enter an establishment?"

Arriving at their room, Thorin unlocked and swung the door open before just standing there and waiting for Dwalin to enter.

"Oh, don't get your braids in a twist, little prince." Dwalin grumbled back as he walked into the bedchambers. Thorin only sighed with the shake of his head and decided to let the subject drop.

The room was small with two beds, one desk, one meek chair, one fireplace, one dresser, one mirror, one chamber pot, and one wash bin. It was windowless, as was requested, therefore lit only by a few dull candlesticks and the fireplace. The beds were large enough for the dwarves that they could have easily shared one with room to spare. While Thorin and Dwalin were close friends though, brothers in battle even, they certainly weren't close enough to sleep next to one another. They'd been staying there for close to three years by now, which wasn't hard to miss due to how lived-in the room looked; portraits of their siblings and parents were hung from the walls, books and letters were stacked on top of the dresser with blank papers and quills sat patiently waiting to be used, weapons were leant against the wall or lying underneath their beds. These were clearly not the lodgings of any short-term tenant.

Dwalin sat on the edge of his bed with a sigh whilst Thorin closed and locked the door, wedging a spare chair under the handle as he did every night—the back of the chair even had a groove where the doorknob rubbed against it.

"You're welcome by the way." Dwalin grumbled suddenly as he was undressing and getting ready to go to sleep.

Thorin's brow rose in confusion whilst he moved towards his bed.

"Whatever am I welcome for?"

"For finding you work to do once your orders are complete, of course." Dwalin said with a grin as if it were the most obvious thing in all of Middle Earth. "And it's work with a _woman_ , nonetheless."

Thorin snorted as he picked his boots off and hung his jacket from the bedpost.

"You might enjoy doing business with women, Dwalin, but I much prefer working with men. Less fragile and obnoxious, men are."

"Aye, but not nearly as pretty." They both shared a hearty laugh at that.


	2. 2: Work Taken

Two

The innkeeper was a kind man, and even kinder to help her find possible escorts. Already she had asked three groups of Men to help her on her journey, and she had yet to find anyone trustworthy enough to join her. She had done enough business with dwarves to know that they were much more respectable in the presence of women, and Mr. Gray sounded quite fond of the two he'd told her of, so her hopes were higher for them.

So, after putting her supplies in her bedroom and switching into some more comfortable clothes, Nina went back downstairs and to the table that Mr. Gray suggested she sit at. It was large—of course it was, she was in the land of the big people now—yet secluded, something she was glad for, though there was an unpleasant draft. The innkeeper's wife was quick to serve her with a polite smile and warm welcome, which Nina was happy to return, before leaving her to wait for the dwarves alone.

She didn't mind the solitude, especially in such a crowded city as Bree, and she even managed to relax a bit. Despite all of the haggling and trading she'd done that day to try and earn enough coin for her journey, Nina felt that her day might actually end on a decent note.

Except that the dwarves were late.

By the time that the two short, wide, and hairy men advanced towards where she sat at their table, she had not only finished her dinner, but also had a slice of pie and downed three mugs of water. Nina had promised herself that if they were not there by the time she finished her forth drink, she would go on up to bed and not bother with them again.

Low and behold, however; there were the two supposedly "creditable and trustworthy" dwarves that Mr. Gray had spoken so generously of, at least two hours later than she'd been told to see them. Nina wouldn't bother to hold their tardiness against them, though, regardless of how miffed she was about it. They might be her best chance at finding escorts, and she wasn't willing to waste it because she was feeling grumpy.

"Are you the merchant?" One of them asked bluntly. He seemed to be the more threatening of the two, what with his tattooed head and scarred forearms.

"Yes, I am." Nina answered in an even tone. "Are you the escorts?"

"That is yet to be decided, my lady." The other answered in a courtly fashion. He had longer and darker hair with bits of gray in it, and he carried an air of control about him, as if he could be fazed by nothing. He inclined his head toward the bench across Nina and asked "May we?"

With a raised brow, not having expected such manners from him, Nina gave a nod and laced her fingers together on the tabletop whilst they got comfortable.

"So," sighed the kinder of the two, "what is your name?"

"You may call me Nina." She answered.

"Good. I am Thorin, at your service." He answered proudly with a bow of his head.

"And Dwalin, at your service as well, miss." His bow was hardly half of Thorin's and his eyes held a distrusting air about them when he stared Nina down. She decided to ignore it and just get on with the details of her journey.

"So, would I be right in assuming that you have some questions for me?"

"Aye, you would be." Dwalin answered.

"In that case, ask away."

"Firstly, where do you plan on going and how long will our services be required?" Thorin asked.

Nina was a bit surprised by this; not by the question itself of course, but that it was the first one asked. Most escorts ask about wages and whether or not she would be providing food or bedrolls for the trip, and only then would they worry about the more important aspects of her trip. It seemed, however, that these dwarves were different from most men.

"I plan to travel to Rohan, which should take ten days at the most if we stop at a few inns on the way there. Then I must stay in Rohan for seven days before we can travel back here, to Bree. Overall, the trip would be roughly twenty seven days, if all goes as planned."

Just then, the innkeeper's wife rushed up with two plates of dinner and two mugs of ale without even being ordered to do so, and sped away yet again to serve her other patrons. Dwalin dug right into the leg of lamb he'd been served without even sparing Nina a second glance. Thorin, though, was a bit more considerate.

"Aren't you going to have anything?" He asked.

Nina, who wanted to mention that she'd already eaten _and_ had dessert, bit her tongue and just shook her head no with a tight smile. Thorin accepted this, but still did not dive into his meal like Dwalin.

"Forgive me for saying, Lady Nina, but I've traveled to Rohan once before and it was only a five day trip. What makes you think it would take quite so long?"

"Because the route we will be taking will lead us off-road, for the sake of secrecy and protection."

Neither dwarf seemed pleased to hear this news.

"Off-road?" Dwalin barked incredulously. Thorin lifted his hand off the table only slightly, motioning for Dwalin to keep quiet.

"Surely it would be both safer and quicker to take the main road, my lady. I see no need to put ourselves at such risk."

"I have need enough for traveling out of sight of others, and I don't require to be in Rohan any sooner than I've already mentioned." Nina paused, seeing that the two were still unconvinced, and sighed. "Worry not Thorin, I've walked the trail enough times to follow it with my eyes closed."

Thorin stared he down then for a moment longer with doubt and frustration clouding his gaze. His eyes didn't move away from hers, almost as if he were trying to read just how truthful she was being. Nina held fast under his glare, of course; she was a merchant, people had tested her will in this exact fashion more times than she could count on her fingers and toes. It was a game she was very familiar with, and one that she knew how to win.

The dwarf's brow softened and his shoulders relaxed just a bit. It was clear then that he would trust her word, though he did not like it. Nina didn't mind his displeasure; he would be paid to keep her alive and her belonging's safe, not to agree with every little thing she said.

"Very well, then; we'll travel your way."

He began to pick through his meal, eating less ferociously than his friend, and refused to make eye contact with Nina again.

"Thank you. Any other questions?"

"Wages." Dwalin said around a full mouth of food, making Nina wince slightly at the sight.

"Right. Well, I'm willing to pay for everything during the trip—food, clothing, bed rolls, rooms at any inns, whatever we need really—and then once we're all back in Bree I'll give you each four hundred gold pieces."

The dwarves both stopped moving just then. As they each tried to process the words that had just exited Nina's mouth, Dwalin halted his devouring of meat and Thorin paused in cutting his meal into nice squares.

Nina didn't know what they were thinking—was the money too much or too little?—but it seemed to be the exact same thing. Their expressions changed in the same manner, from shock and disbelief to hopeful wonder. Then they each dropped what they held, sat straighter, put their hands either on the tabletop or their lap, and looked at Nina with both respect and interest. It seemed that she was no longer some merchant girl that foolishly wanted to travel through bushes and swamps rather than take the trail, but an employer that they desperately wanted to impress.

Nina certainly didn't mind their change in attitude.

"Just to be clear, Lady Nina," Thorin said slowly and calmly, "you did say _four_ hundred... _gold_ pieces… _each_." He spoke the words as clearly as he knew, staring at her with critical and desperate eyes. Nina lifted a brow at this and nodded.

"Yes, four hundred gold pieces each. More, if I think you deserve it. Now, I plan to leave by the end of this week, since I have a few more errands to run, so—"

"Right, and, eh…how would be go about _deserving_ a bit more?" Dwalin quickly and quite rudely changed the subject to something of more interest to him. Nina frowned in confusion.

"Deserving more of what?" She asked naively.

Thorin cleared his throat, drawing her attention towards him before Dwalin could ask more about payment. He knew that this was the best deal they'd seen in years and probably would ever see again; he wasn't ready to let it be ruined by pushing the envelope, so to speak.

"Never mind him, he's been drinking."

When Dwalin tried to argue his words, Thorin roughly bumped his thigh against Dwalin's to keep him quiet. The motion was quite obvious to Nina and she wondered, in a paranoid fashion, just what was going on between the two.

"Anyways, this seems like a fair job; we'd be honored to take it."

"Really?" Nina asked, slightly surprised. "Just like that?"

Thorin gave a small smile.

"Aye, just like that. You mentioned leaving by the end of this week?"

"Yes, I am currently buying supplies for the trip. I have a list here," Nina began to pull a crumbled and folded piece of paper from her pocket with a thin stick of messy charcoal, "of things I have gotten and the things that I still need to get. Feel free to add to it if you think it lacking."

Dwalin snagged the piece of paper and charcoal stick before Thorin could and scornfully looked it over, muttering out loud the list's contents as he went along. Thorin took a deep breath to try and keep calm, his eyes cutting away from the other dwarf and to the lady sitting across from him.

"Might I inquire as to what is all the way out in Rohan which needs to be sold or bought?"

Nina's already stern and cold eyes suddenly became darker, hateful, and almost commanding. Her brow set into a heavy line and her plump lips turned downwards.

Any small amount of amusement that Nina had felt—at Dwalin bothering Thorin so openly and at Thorin trying his best to be presentable enough for the both of them—instantly disappeared at the question. She knew that the dwarves had every right to ask what she was transporting, but she also knew that nobody could be trusted.

The contents of the bag she had been protecting for years, never letting it leave her side or anyone get too close to it, were far too important to tell just anyone about. Dwarves were stubborn creatures, anyone in all of Middle Earth knew at least that much, and if she didn't nip this in the bud right here and right now, then their curiosity could easily grow until they either forced an answer out of her or tried to figure it out on their own. Nina simply couldn't afford to even risk that.

"No, master dwarf, you may not inquire. In fact, I would very much appreciate it if the subject was not mentioned ever again, to myself _or_ anyone else." Just to make sure she had their attention, she added that "Otherwise, I might be tempted to take my business and my coin elsewhere. Understood?"

Their heads practically flew off of their shoulders, they snapped up so quickly to stare with wide and alarmed eyes at her. It was as if she threatened to take the very air away from their lungs. Clearly, she had gained their cooperation as well as their attention.

"Of course, my lady; not to be mentioned again." Thorin strictly said with a raised chin.

"None of our business, nor anyone else's. Won't speak a word of it." Dwalin nodded his head in clear compliance.

"Do you swear it?" Nina challenged.

The dwarves both said "We swear." at the same time, nearly in perfect unison. Nina nodded in satisfaction of their response, relieved that they would rather sate their need for compensation than their need for answers. Dwalin handed the list and charcoal stick back then.

"I added on a few things that Thorin and I might require."

Nina accepted the items with a nod of her head and put them back into her pocket.

"So, unless there is anything else we need to discuss of, I will be heading up to bed now."

Dwalin and Thorin shared a look, each quickly going over everything they'd spoken of with Nina, and then looked back at the woman.

"I believe we have covered all that was to be spoken of, Lady Nina."

"Good, then I shall meet the two of you here at the end of this week. I bid you a good night, gentlemen."

Nina stood from the table with her bag tightly pulled in to her side and gave the dwarves a respectful tip of her head before turning and moving up the stairs. Dwalin and Thorin watched her go until she was out of their sight before looking at one another.

"An odd woman, she is." Dwalin muttered.

"Aye. Possibly odder than we know, considering she's a hobbit."

There was a moment of silence while they finished their food, before Dwalin realized that he was squished in his booth because Thorin was still sitting next to him. Suddenly he scowled like a mad dog and started elbowing Thorin in the side, grumbling furiously at his friend.

"Get, get away, would you?! Go sit on your side, you bloody nitwit, before rumors start."

"Alright, alright! For the love of Mahal…" Thorin said grouchily. It was a bit of a sight, watching one dwarf push another out of a booth that was simply too large for either of them.

Unbeknownst to them, it was a sight that was carefully watched by unseen eyes.


End file.
